We are always reaching for figures the past to compare the figures of the present. Not only to do we invoke the great—Lincoln, Churchill, King—but also the evil—Hitler, Stalin, Mao—with monotonous regularity. It seems we cannot make up our own minds without some well-known figure to clinch the deal. But sometimes the analogy is so outrageous and so wrong that you have to yell: "Stop!"
Spend enough time studying the life of King David and you start to expect that he will turn up in popular culture on a regular basis. Each time the "little guy" wins, you get comparisons of David and Goliath. When a public figure gets caught in flagrante, David and Batsheba are certain to be cited. While I was writing a biography of King David, I found many examples of David turning up in the news to explain the events of the day. None was as downright ridiculous as this statement from Jerry Falwell Jr., the president of Liberty University, endorsing Donald Trump for president:
God called King David a man after God’s own heart even though he was an adulterer and a murderer. You have to choose the leader that would make the best king or president and not necessarily someone who would be a good pastor. We’re not voting for pastor-in-chief.
This is an almost perfect example of using scripture to endorse the precise opposite of what the scripture teaches. The incident Falwell is referring to is David's liaison with Batsheba. The sordid story of the adultery and murder is found in II Samuel, ch. 11. David takes a married woman to bed and, afterwards, finding she is pregnant, tries to lure her husband, Uriah, back from war to sleep with her so that his sin will not be discovered. When Uriah refuses, David arranges to have him killed in the war. Rarely has an admired figure done anything so cunning, cruel and contemptible.
But the entire point of the story is not that power and fear went to David's head and he did a terrible thing. He becomes a man after God's own heart not for his sin, but for his sorrow. When confronted by the prophet Nathan with his sin, David does not do what any other ancient king would have done—call for Nathan's head. Instead, David repents and weeps and begs forgiveness of God. The son born of the adulterous union dies despite David's urgent and wracking pleas on his child's behalf. In other words, if you want to make a case for a man being after God's own heart, find a man who admit his misdeeds, can cry at his sins, and strive to be better with people and with God.
Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving kindness . . . blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in Thy sight . . . (Psalm 51).
Falwell had other choices from the Bible. He might have cited King R ehoboam (I Kings, ch. 12), who when faced with people feeling disenfranchised, took counsel with the elders who had served his father Solomon. They suggested he speak softly and kindly, but he chose a harsh rhetoric, promising a policy of retribution. He too was a king of Israel. King R ehoboam incited a division in the nation that was never healed.